Beyond Hades: The Prometheus Wars (48 page)

Talbot gasped. He hadn't thought of that.

"But can't this ship fly under the water?" asked Talbot.

"Well, yes... in theory. I know when I screwed up it didn't fuck it up too badly crashing into the ocean, but it's not designed for it. Besides which, we don't have any diving gear, especially for that depth. It's no good if we can get down there but not exit the ship, is it?"

Talbot thought about arguing that they could fly somewhere to collect some gear, but knew it was useless. They had maybe a little over an hour to get to the other side of the world and down to Atlantis. Even if they had the diving gear with them, he knew they wouldn't make it. There was no way they could navigate through Atlantis and destroy the Syrpeas Gate - if they even figured out
how
to destroy the gate - in the time they had left.

It was over.

They had failed.

Talbot felt hopelessness well up within him, and he slumped to the ground, tears forming in his eyes. It had all been for nothing. They'd travelled through four different worlds in an attempt to save this one, and had still fallen short.

Talbot's tears fell silently, striking the orange dust of the Australian desert.

"There is
one
thing we could try," said Wes softly.

Talbot half turned. "What?"

"Well, I screwed the pooch when I tried it the first time, but we could try to do it again."

"What are you talking about?" asked Talbot, turning fully and staring at the commando.

Wes looked uncomfortable. "I wasn't completely honest before, when I said it was an accident that I travelled through time. That was a lie I told your government in order to keep them off my back about certain things. The entire thing was planned. I went AWOL in the future, stealing that thing in the process," he indicated the ship. "I tricked Bessie into traveling back in time, but I stuffed up with my calculations and ended up here instead of where I really wanted to go."

"So what are you saying?"

"We could try to use the ship to travel back in time. If we could do that, we might be able to shut down the rift."

Talbot felt hope rise in his chest once more. "Let's do it. What do we have to lose?"

"Well, if we stuff it up it could mean the end of civilization as we know it, but I figure that'll happen if we don't try, so what the hell."

"Fuck yeah," grunted Talbot.

Wes laughed. "Man, you sound like a kitten trying to imitate a lion when you talk like that, but I think I like it."

Talbot grinned, rising to his feet. "Let's get a move on," he said. "Time's wasting."

"There's one thing you have to understand before we do this," said Wes seriously. "If we succeed, it may still destroy everything."

"What do you mean?"

"As far as I know, I'm the only one to ever successfully travel back in time. Einstein speculated on the ability to travel backwards through time, but nobody has ever tried it before out of fear of the repercussions if something goes wrong."

"How so?" asked Talbot.

"If you travel back and alter something - even a minor thing - then everything after that event changes like dominos falling. Now, what happens if those adjustments also mean you're not where you need to be in order to go back in time in the first place?"

"Okay, you've lost me."

"If we go back and change this," said Wes, all aspects of his simple, brutish speech vanished, replaced with the crisp vocalization of a highly intelligent individual, "it may restructure the past in such a way as to cut us both out of the equation, and as such we won't be here to go back in time to save the past."

"Just as I'm beginning to understand what you're saying, the meaning of your words slithers away from me."

Wes sighed. "The past will change. If the past changes, they won't knock on your door in the first place. Understand? The dominos won't fall in the same way and we won't end up here."

"But that's okay, isn't it?"

"No, because if we don't end up here, we won't be able to go back in time," said Wes, exasperated. "It's a giant circle which you'll shatter by changing the past."

"What will happen?"

Wes frowned. "There are two schools of thought on the subject. One thinks it won't matter and everything will continue as it will. The past will change without drama and time will continue along its new path, devoid of incident."

"What's the other school of thought?" asked Talbot.

"The universe and everything in it can't rearrange something so massive and it collapses in on itself. It's like an incredible mathematic equation whose answer is true, but the equation itself changes each time you try to decipher it. The universe is based upon mathematics, and if something like this happens it might simply implode."

"Whereas if we do nothing, a similar thing will happen," said Talbot.

"Uh huh," agreed Wes.

"So why are we talking about it? Let's just do it and to hell with the consequences. At least we'll have done our best."

"I'm just likin' you more and more. That timid little bitch I met way back when is truly dead and buried now," said Wes, slapping Talbot on the shoulder.

"Hell yeah," said Talbot. "Let's go fuck something up."

Wes's laughter echoed off Ayers Rock as the two made their way down to the ship. It blurred and shifted, once more becoming a shining jet. Talbot tried to keep his hopes high for the coming endeavor, but sensed dread edging into his thoughts, knowing their chances of success were almost non-existent.

***

Wes and Talbot positioned themselves within the PCMs, and Wes began furiously manipulating controls inside the semi-liquid.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," ordered the commando. "I need to chat with the ship for a bit."

A casing came down and situated itself upon Wes's head, completely covering it. It was so enclosed around the commando Talbot feared it might suffocate him, but Wes's hands worked furiously within the PCM, and he seemed unencumbered by it.

Several minutes passed, but eventually the head casing lifted, and Wes looked at Talbot, his expression grim.

"The ship has agreed to help us," he said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"We have no choice," replied Talbot. "Let's go."

Wes nodded.

The ship lifted off the ground and shot directly into the air where it paused.

"Hold onto your nut-sack," called Wes.

Before Talbot could comment, the jet shot forward so quickly Talbot was unable to catch his breath, and he was once again thankful for the confining security of the PCM. The viewing screen opened up in front of them, and Talbot gazed in wonder at the scene before him. Just like their last journey, the clouds flashed by so quickly he had no time to register them before they were gone. Within seconds the red desert was replaced by the rich green of the Australian coastline, and then the deep blue of the ocean.

"Just so you know," called Wes, "you're really not gonna enjoy this next bit."

Talbot glanced over at the commando, seeing the serious and somewhat concerned expression upon his face, and knew that whatever was about to happen, it was really going to suck. The viewing screen in front of them closed, shutting out the outside world.

"Um... okay," said Talbot, knowing they'd come too far to turn back now.

Wes manipulated something within his PCM and suddenly Talbot's containing module became completely rigid, like cement.

"Hey, what the -?"

"Trust me," replied Wes seriously. "You're gonna need it."

The world outside suddenly blurred and shifted moments before Talbot felt his intestines tear apart and his head prepare to explode. Agony shot through every atom of his body, and he cried out in a soundless plea. The air in his lungs became lava, scalding him irreparably before pouring out through his eyes and every orifice of his body.

Conscious thought departed, and the one remaining part of Talbot's sanity prayed for the enveloping oblivion of unconsciousness - but it wouldn't come. Next he begged for insanity to take hold and release him from this pain, but it too remained absent. All he had was agony.

Nothing else compared to this. The myriad of injuries Talbot had suffered throughout this journey paled beside the anguish now tearing through him. The suffering within the limbo of the rift accessing Olympia was like being tickled with feathers compared to this.

Talbot's eyeballs burst, a miraculous feat since only moments ago lava had erupted from his sockets. His ribcage was wrenched open by unseen hands and vinegar poured onto his flayed heart and lungs. Swiftly the ribs healed, only for the inferno to now rush out through his ears, scalding and torturing. Strange goo ran down Talbot's cheeks and it took him a moment to realize it was actually his brains, bubbling within the cauldron of his skull, three witches cackling as they stirred the broth with a dark spoon....

What the hell?

The entire scene had erupted into one endless nightmare, like the worst acid flashback ever imagined. The three witches shifted form and became the cyclops, crashing through the underground base at Quantico. The cyclops morphed into the gryphon, chasing Talbot through the skies as he fled in terror. With each change the vision became something from Talbot's quest, increasingly horrifying in its unreality. Briareus crying out at the deaths of his brothers, though in reality the Hecatonchires had not seemed the least bit perturbed about their deaths. Heracles screaming as he was absorbed into Kharon - torment echoing through the cabin of the ship -

And then Talbot was back in reality, the sounds of his own screaming still lingering within the confined space. He tried to move, but the unyielding PCM held him solid, and he understood the need for it now. If he hadn't been held motionless during whatever the hell had just happened - hallucination, reality, whatever - he might have injured himself unintentionally.

Glancing over at Wes, Talbot saw the commando furiously working on calculations, his eyes fixed to the thin screen hanging before him. The Australian seemed unperturbed by the trip, but Talbot knew by now that Wes was a master at concealing how he really felt.

"Did we do it?" asked Talbot, his throat raw.

Wes glanced at him. "I'm just figuring that out now. I think we're pretty close to the mark. The calculations are spot on, so I can't see a problem. You didn't shit yourself, did ya?"

Talbot grimaced, slowly recovering from the horror of the images still burning within his mind. "Not that I know of. You?"

"I hope not. You have no idea how hard these PCMs are to clean out. Hang on a sec, and I'll make you more comfortable."

A moment later, Talbot felt the constriction surrounding him relax and return to its original texture - what Wes had referred to as something akin to snot. Talbot hadn't thought he would ever prefer this, but he felt his muscles slowly begin to relax.

The viewing screen opened before them and Talbot saw they were still above the ocean, but this one looked somehow different.

"Where are we?" he asked Wes.

"Just off the west coast of Africa."

Talbot swallowed heavily. "So we're almost there?"

"No 'almost' about it. We're there. Now we just have to find out if this thing will get us under the water to Atlantis. Here goes!"

The ocean sped toward them, closer and closer. They plunged into it, the hull of the ship slicing through the surface without pause, causing Talbot to think once more about the way Wes had said it could cut between dimensions in order to travel faster. This ship was so far beyond anything he could understand, it hurt his mind just trying to get his thoughts around the idea.